Walk Beside Me
by loveislouder94
Summary: "Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend."- Albert Camus / We are defined by our friends, and this collection contains glimpses of different friendships within the Harry Potter universe, from Angelina and Katie to Tom Riddle and Hepzibah Smith
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This was written in response to the 50 Different Friendships or Less Challenge on HPFC. At the moment it is a one-shot, but it is highly likely it will become multi-chaptered, as I have a few ideas for other prompts floating in my head. I've never attempted a challenge before, so I apologise if this was done incorrectly. Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read this. :)**

Prompt: forbidden (26/50)

October 1999

War changes you. They've both accepted this as fact, just like they've accepted this strange sort of friendship-that-isn't as part of their lives, at least for the next few months. It doesn't make any sort of sense at all, that Hermione Granger would voluntarily be in the company of Draco Malfoy, nor he in hers, but then again, the world doesn't make sense, and why should it have to?

Sometimes Hermione wonders if they're even friends at all, if they don't acknowledge each other at all during the day. Theirs is an acquaintance founded on loneliness and coincidence. They agree without words to keep it a secret, because even if it's not forbidden, it most definitely won't be approved of. She's with Ron and he's with Astoria (sort of) and even though they're just friends (companions, acquaintances, something like that) these late night meetings have a hint of something improper, simply because of the secrecy involved.

Does this make them bad people?

She asks him this once, and he just looks at her and says, with a hint of his old arrogance, "You think too much, Granger." So she'd left it at that, keeping her more contemplative thoughts to herself.

It starts in the second week of term. Hogwarts has just reopened, a little more than a year after the Battle, and everyone – staff and students alike – is a little bit fragile. Hermione is having trouble sleeping, so she tip-toes through the castle in her dressing gown and slippers until she reaches the Astronomy tower.

She finds it humbling to be up so high, frequenting it when she needs a quiet place to think, or a place to just _be, _without judgments or interruptions.

Malfoy's shadow becomes visible before he does, and it's only the many months of peace and apparent safety that stop her from Stunning him straight away.

"Granger. What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same question." There's dark circles under his eyes, and she doesn't think she looks much better. They've both obviously been caught in a moment of vulnerability, but neither wants to admit it.

"I – I come here when I can't sleep." His honesty surprises her; she'd been expecting some scathing remark, at the very least.

"Oh. So do I." She realises she's still pointing her wand at him, and lowers it quickly, revealing, as she does so, a light pink 'O' and 'D' - part of a scar she will have forever, courtesy of Bellatrix Lestrange.

It clearly makes him uncomfortable. "Sorry about what she did to you."

"It's not your fault." There's an air of awkwardness to their encounter now – what do you say to someone who has been, to some extent, your enemy since you were eleven years old in a situation like this one?

They both leave shortly after, but they meet again the next night, and the night after that, until there's a pattern to their encounters that neither of them acknowledges.

Hermione already owls Ron, and Harry, and her parents frequently – perhaps more frequently than she should – and there are some things she doesn't want to bother Ginny with when she's already got enough on her plate. So it happens that she finds herself confessing her nightmares to Draco Malfoy, and he in turn confides in her.

Their friendship is precarious and conditional, they're both aware that it won't last beyond this year, and it might not even last beyond this term, but for the moment they're both in need of company, and they find it in each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This was written for the 50 Different Friendships Challenge, with the prompt common room, and the Master of Spells Challenge, prompts Katie Bell and "How do you know when you're in love?"**

"Hey Angelina, how do you know when you're in love?"

Angelina smiled at her curiously. "That's a pretty loaded question for a casual evening in the Common Room. Why do you ask?"

Katie faltered a little, ducking behind her curtain of dark hair. "Well, Oliver – someone – I was just wondering…Anyway, it's not important. I just thought I'd ask you, since you're older and you're good with listening and giving advice, and this kind of stuff is just not my forte."

"Why thank you! First, I have to say, Oliver Wood, huh? You and him, I could definitely see it. Sorry," she added, noticing the faint blush on Katie's cheeks.

"That's okay. Go on."

"Okay, I don't really know how to answer that one, to be honest. I don't think I've ever really been in love myself. I guess you'd know when you found a person who made you feel like you were special, in big ways and small ones, someone who could unfailingly make you laugh, but knew how to be serious when necessary. Someone with a good heart." Her gaze drifted, apparently unconsciously, to Fred and George. "And they might be handsome, but if you love them that shouldn't matter in the slightest. "

"Got anyone particular in mind, Ange? Maybe a Weasley twin?"

"Don't say that too loud, one of them might hear you!" She clamped a hand over Katie's mouth, laughing, and Katie knew she wasn't really mad.

Katie raised her hands in surrender, and Angelina let her speak. "So which twin is it?"

As Angelina scowled and looked around anxiously in case they were overheard, Katie couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, okay, I won't say anything else," she said in a more sober tone, though her lips twitched with a supressed smile. "In all seriousness, do you think he's too old for me?"

"Who, Oliver? No, you're only three years younger than him. Besides, it's common knowledge that girls mature faster than boys. We have the proof right in front of us." Angelina gestured towards the Weasley twins, who, together with Lee Jordan, were surrounded by a crowd of people laughing at their antics, as usual.

"Point taken."

"And Katie, if you're going to talk to Oliver about this, I'd do it sooner rather than later. It's his last year, and you don't know how often you'll see him after he graduates, if you see him at all."

"Yeah…"Katie said slowly.

"Is that a yeah, as in I completely disagree with you and I'm just saying it to shut you, or a yeah as in Angelina, you're so right, I'm going to talk to him right away?"

"Neither. It means yeah, I've taken on board what you've said, and I'm going to think about it."

"If you say so," Angelina sighed, fully aware that when Katie said she'd think about it, she usually meant it wasn't going to happen. "Sometimes, you can't spend too much time overthinking things. You have to go out on a limb and take that first step, because nothing will change if you don't."

"Such sound advice, Ange, but I gather you haven't used it?"

"No, it's different for me! Like my dad always says, do what I say, and not what I do!"

"Wow, you've found a more creative way of saying you're a hypocrite," Katie said playfully.

"Well, when you put it that way it doesn't sound nearly as reasonable…"

"Don't worry, I think I can forgive your hypocrisy…_this _time."

"Your generosity astounds me!"

"Generosity is my middle name. Really though Ange, thanks for listening. I think I just needed to talk through it with someone," Katie said earnestly. She felt much better about Oliver, even though she still wasn't entirely sure what to do about her feelings. It was as though speaking them out loud made them real, and knowing that Angelina would listen to and accept whatever she had to say gave her an enormous sense of reassurance.

She dreaded the day that Angelina and Alicia graduated, but Katie consoled herself with the fact that the three of them still had several years at Hogwarts together, during which Angelina might finally take her own advice…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: The previous chapter was meant to be light and fluffy, but considering that light and fluffy has never been one of my strong points, I doubt I managed it. Anyway, thank you to anyone who has read, reviewed, followed or favourited this, your support is enormously valued.  
This was written for the 50 Different Friendships Challenge, prompt: tired, and the Master of Spells Challenge, using the prompts Arthur Weasley and story. **

1976

"Bill, I don't wanna go to bed! Not tired!"

"What about if dad reads us a bedtime story?" Bill asked patiently.

"Yeah," Charlie said excitedly, clapping his hands, "bedtime story!"

"You wait here then, I'll go get dad." Bill returned with his father in tow, tired but smiling.

"Okay you two, which story shall we read tonight?"

"Babbitty Rabbity!"Charlie cried, pulling said book from under his bed.

"Your favourite," Arthur said, straightening his glasses and sitting on the bed next to Charlie. "Are you happy with that one, Bill?" Bill nodded solemnly, settling into his own bed.

"Babbitty Rabitty and her Cackling Stump," Arthur began. "A long time ago, in a far off land, there lived a foolish king who decided that he alone should have the power of magic…" As he read, Charlie's eyelids drooped lower and lower, until they were completely shut. His breathing slowed, and Arthur knew he had fallen asleep, despite his earlier protests.

"Guess it's just you and me now Bill. Do you want me to keep reading?"

"Yes please dad," Bill said, yawning.

Smiling, Arthur continued the story. When it was finished, he stood up to leave.

"Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"Will you still read stories to me and Charlie even when the new baby comes?"

"Of course I will. Your new brother or sister could listen too, how's that?"

"Good. And dad…I'll help look after Charlie for you and mum, if you're busy."

Arthur felt a rush of pride for the thoughtful boy looking back at him. "Thank you. You're a good boy, Bill. Good night."

"Good night, dad."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This was written for the 50 Different Friendships or Less Challenge, for the prompt charm (37/50) and the Colours Competition by Empress Empoleon, category green, negative: write about someone rich (Hepzibah Smith). Thank you to anyone who has read, reviewed, Followed or Favourited this. I really appreciate it.**

She's a desperate, lonely old woman with more money than she knows what to do with. He makes her feel young again, makes her feel special and important and apart of the world, even if he is her only connection, and perhaps even more so because of it.

He is by far her favourite of all the apprentices Borgin has ever sent to visit her. Prior to meeting him, her life had consisted of the occasional visit from one of Borgin's representatives, eating, sleeping and reliving her youth by retelling endless anecdotes to Hokey. Although Hokey was getting on in years, and making more mistakes than usual, she would listen, and that was enough. Sometimes people just need to be heard.

The first time Tom Riddle stops by her house, she is unprepared. He treats her with respect and courtesy, far more than the usual apprentices, who make it perfectly clear that they want nothing to do with a fat old lady longing for her glory days.

The next time he visits, he brings a bouquet of roses, remembering she'd said they were her favourite. It becomes an unspoken tradition between them – every week he brings her a different coloured bouquet and every week she pretends to be surprised, despite the fact that the empty vase on her coffee table betrays her anticipation.

She's a lot like Miss Havisham, living in a carefully preserved world that is now and forevermore beyond her reach. It's an unflattering comparison, one she never admits to herself, yet the life of Hepzibah Smith bears an undeniable likeness to that of the Dickensian spinster.

When Tom comes around, she makes a special effort to look glamorous, and she feels it, at least for a while, and not even the blatant lie in Hokey's mandatory compliments ("You look lovely, Madam," or "Very beautiful, Mistress") can take that away. At all other times, she deliberately avoids looking in the mirror, but with her wrinkles hidden beneath caked on makeup, shamefully grey hair invisible beneath a wig, and her grossly obese frame adorned with bright, expensive clothes, she's almost – _almost – _the way she used to be.

Her behaviour changes, too, and she finds herself giggling at the slightest things he says, like she's a schoolgirl with a silly crush. She has Hokey make tea and something to eat, hoping to entice him to stay a little more. Her efforts are probably painfully obvious, but Tom never says anything, and he always seems sincere when he says he doesn't want to leave. (If she's honest with herself, she sometimes perceives a hint of something sinister beneath his exterior, glimpses of impatience and murderous cruelty. She laughs at herself, then, because this is Tom, there's not a cruel bone in his body. She sees what she wants to see, and in the end, it kills her). All of the sudden, her life revolves alarmingly around Tom and his visits, they are the highlights of her empty weeks, the most fulfilling part of her empty life.

If she thinks too much about it she gets a headache and feels faintly ridiculous, so for the most part, she doesn't dwell too much on her friend Tom Riddle, that handsome young man with endless charm.


End file.
